Heavenly Beverley : The Beverley Hillbillies Meet The Governor...(Amongst Other Excitement!)

Who would have thought? Our primary focus for travelling to Point Samson was to attend the annual Cossack Art Awards nearby. We thought Roebourne would just be a blip on the landscape, worthy of a brief stop to check out the old part of the town. Never in our wildest dreams could we envisage the fantastic people we met, the pride of the community and the reincarnation of a town that had not had the best reputation in the past.

Roebourne is old. First settled in the 1860s, the Harding River provided a reliable water source for first white settlers. Emma Withnell and her family held the first property, store and transport service. Roebourne was the first North-west town to be gazetted in 1866. The town was destroyed by a cyclone in 1872 and many of the rebuilt structures have now been heritage listed.

The aboriginal people's movements were strictly controlled until the late 1960s. With the advent of newer towns and the decline of the pastoral industry, the local families finally moved back to reclaim the town. The period that followed was often marred by dispute and tragedy. Alcohol blighted many lives and the Victoria Hotel gained a notorious reputation, causing severe antagonism between the locals and the police.

All I knew of Roebourne was the past. Michael likewise. So, we were gobsmacked to see that the Victoria Hotel had been restored and beautified as we drove into town. The facade had been taken back to the original stone, the verandahs refurbished and not a hint of its blighted past. Opposite the Victoria was a fantastic new community centre. The streets were clean, the houses neat and all was quiet on a lazy Saturday afternoon.

In search of the Visitor's Centre, we eventually pulled up outside the smart addition at the rear of the Victoria. This was a hive of activity. Due to officially open in a couple of weeks, the new section linked into the original hotel space. There would be a cafe, the library, numerous community groups and the tourism centre. Just not quite yet.

Sam, a former Kalgoorlie girl and a tiny dynamo, had moved up to Roebourne with her partner and was attempting to set up the visitors' section with all the speed of a Whirling Dervish. Dee, her boss was to begin running the cafe in the very near future and was also doing her own impersonation of a headless chook. Between the pair of them, there was an air of purpose and high energy and pride in this venture. Attempting to buy some books and a DVD, we had no cash and they had no EFTPOS.

The problem was solved when we were invited to return the following day. With the money. And to see the Western Australian governor, Mister Kim Beazley. And attend lunch at one of the arts groups with the governor and the artists. What an offer...

Thus, we set out yesterday in our cleanest clothes. Michael was appropriately attired in one of his loudest shirts. I was desperate to keep my black and white good tee shirt unsoiled until after we'd seen Mister Beazley.

We thought we'd stop at the Cossack Awards on the way. Not our style at all. The venue was jammed. We made a rapid executive decision to return to Cossack on Monday.

Onto Roebourne. There we met another mover and shaker. Michael Woodley, CEO of the Yindjibarndi Corporation. Along with his wife Lorraine, he believed in the town. He was a tour de force, a tall muscular Aboriginal man who wore his heart on his sleeve whilst being completely aware of the challenges he was determined to overcome. They had worked tirelessly to bring their vision of the Victoria to fruition and diminish the darkness of her past.

The governor arrived with his entourage. No airs and graces to be seen. They were all there to view the fantastic achievements being built in Roebourne. Many of the local residents came to meet Mister Beazley. We moved onto the Juluwarlu Group premises, overseen by CEO Lorraine Coppin, Michael Woodley's partner. We were there for lunch. Joan and her band of helpers had produced a wonderful spread. Suddenly, we realised just how honoured we were to be in this place. We were surrounded by artists, elders, families, dogs, the governor and two of the most committed people, Michael and Lorraine, that I have ever met. Michael was able to wrangle a conversation with the governor, as they are both history nuts. Mister Beazley was most impressed with Michael's Federation medallion.

Eventually, we left Juluwarlu after the elders, artists, Michael, Lorraine and Sam had all signed our newest book. Again, we had not understood the significance of this publication. Juluwarlu has been mapping their Yindjibarndi country for more than ten years. The wonderful book we had purchased featuring photographs, stories, artists and paintings was the first volume of this work. If my memory serves me correctly, there will be at least another dozen of these emerging over the next few years. We were just blown away...

We reeled out with a vague intention of photographing the old jail. Outside the wire protecting the stone buildings, we met Lesley, Manager of the Roebourne Arts Group. She had returned to pick up her bread knife. These artists' collection was housed inside the jail. We accepted her invitation to come inside.

More amazing artworks. More people were being joined by community, love of country and their art. We agreed with Lesley that perhaps the former jail wasn't the greatest location for the Roebourne Arts Group. She is currently lobbying Minister of the Arts, David Templeman, to gain access for the group to the old warden's house - a much friendlier appearing location next door.

We toyed briefly with purchasing a couple of fantastic paintings. Unfortunately, out of our financial reach. However, we did ask Lesley about the possibility of Michael sharing this skill set with the local artists and young people. Her ears sprang up like a surprised and delighted rabbit. How long were we staying? We roared with laughter. Only another day. Initially deflated, she perked up when we discussed returning next year for a longer period for Michael to immerse himself in the local arts community and pass on his techniques and passions to another group.

We retired, exhausted to the Point Samson Tavern for a delicious Red Emporer, chips and salad for dinner. The place was rocking. Later, we enjoyed a couple of glasses of vino before we fell into bed.

Another totally unexpected day of wonder...